


Winterfell

by Dragongoddess13



Series: Ghost Whisperer AU [14]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Ghost Whisperer AU, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:41:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26973841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragongoddess13/pseuds/Dragongoddess13
Summary: Logically, he knows he’s already met them, but without the distraction of personal disaster he’s not sure how her family is going to handle realizing that he is in fact, always that unsociable.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Series: Ghost Whisperer AU [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1715362
Comments: 37
Kudos: 109





	1. More Questions Than Answers

Winterfell

Chapter 1: More Questions Than Answers

xXx

Gendry wakes with a light jerk, another nightmare fading from his mind’s eye as he becomes more aware of the waking world. The weight of Arya against his side is the only thing that keeps him from jumping out of bed with the nervous energy that courses through him. He forces himself to lay still, calming the slight race of his heart. It helps when he turns to look down at her, the peace in her sleeping expression telling him that she’s not having the nightmare too. 

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. It’s been a little over two months since he started having this particular nightmare. He’d thought nothing of it at first, assuming it had more to do with the turmoil that had surrounded him those chaotic weeks, but then Arya had mentioned being concerned for him and when he inquired as to why, she told him about her own dreams. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t worried about the fact that they were having the same nightmare, but Arya insisted it was probably a ghost trying to tell them something. She didn’t know what said ghost might be trying to tell them, but the fact that they were trying to tell both of them, didn’t sit well with him. Add to that everything they had discovered at Tudor Rose and he was down right concerned. 

Gendry carefully extracts himself from Arya’s grip, tucking her in as she shifts to accommodate his sudden disappearance. It’s still early, so he decides to let her sleep. He watches her for a moment, smiling softly as she mutters in displeasure before settling down again. Shaking his head in amusement he heads for the bathroom, stepping into the shower and letting the spray attempt to distract him. It fails miserably, because as if nightmares and ghosts weren't enough to worry about, he needed to prepare himself to meet Arya’s family by the end of the day. Logically, he knows he’s already met them, but without the distraction of personal disaster he’s not sure how her family is going to handle realizing that he is in fact, always that unsociable. 

Gendry steps out of the shower, drying off quickly and wrapping a towel around his waist. He steps out of the bedroom, running the other one through his hair when he realizes he's being watched. Looking up toward the bed, he finds Arya laying on her side, pupils blown wide as she watches a single drop of water travel the length of his neck and down his chest. He feels the warmth settle into his chest, the heat of her gaze stirring the heat of desire he’s always felt for her and yet seems to be stronger than ever as of late. She feels it too, that much is obvious by the number of times she’s jumped him randomly over the last few weeks. 

“How did you sleep?” she asks, eyes trailing the length of his body. He shrugs. 

“Well enough.” he tells her. Whatever she sees when she finally meets his eyes seems to tell her all she needs to know. 

“I had the dream again too.” 

Gendry sighs. “Whatever this ghost is trying to tell us, there has to be a better way.” 

“One would think so, but experience has taught me that it’s never that simple.” 

He can’t argue with that. He’s seen enough in the last two years to know how complicated these things can be, but having never experienced it on this level before, he was having trouble dealing with it. It was affecting his sleep and quite frankly, knowing this was nothing new to Arya only served to anger him on her behalf. 

Seeing the worry clearly on her face, he stops resisting the urge to go to her, shedding the towel as he climbs into bed. She turns onto her back as he moves over her, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down to her. They lose themselves in each other, a burning need neither of them can fight for the other. They writhe together, joining together over and over again in a lust filled haze that throws them over the edge, one climax after the other. 

It’s Arya’s phone that snaps them out of it, drawing their attention away from each other long enough to realize that hours have passed. Dazed and confused, her body humming with an inhuman amount of pleasure, Arya rolls over, snatching her phone off the end table. 

“Hello.” 

“Hey, Arya I just wanted to remind you not to forget Larry’s stuffed dragon. He barely slept last night without it.” Sansa’s voice answers quickly. 

“Yeah, no worries, it’s waiting with my bags.” Arya replies absently. There’s a pause, then;

“Are you alright?” she asks. “You sound distracted?” 

“Huh, oh, yeah, no… we sort of slept in.” Arya lies. “We’re just getting up.”

“Are you going to be ready in time? We have to be at the train station in an hour.” 

“Don’t worry, we’ll be ready.” 

“Alright, I’ll see you soon then.” 

“See you soon.” Arya tells her, hanging up. Dropping her phone on the table, she rolls over only to find Gendry watching her. 

“Guess we should get up and get ready to go.” he says, though he doesn’t sound particularly enthusiastic about it. Quite frankly, she isn’t either. She’s been looking forward to visiting her family, showing Gendry her childhood home, since her mother called to invite them up for Gendry’s birthday. The invitation itself was exactly what Arya was hoping for, her family’s way of welcoming Gendry into the Stark family. They had done it for everyone. Ygritte, Rhaegar, Jeyne and Margaery, Jojen and Lyanna Mormont. Everyone was welcomed the same way. Invited to Winterfell for each of their birthdays. Her mother’s way of saying you're one of us now. And now they had invited them up for Gendry’s birthday. 

But this trip wasn’t just about that. With the information they’d gotten from their night in the Tudor Rose this weekend was going to be spent celebrating Gendry’s birthday with the looming spectre of finally digging into her family’s library when no one else was around. Normally secrecy wouldn’t be an issue, but Terry and the others had made it clear that what they had shared with them needed to be kept secret from everyone but a select few. She’s already called her aunt to warn her that there was something important they needed to discuss in private, but it didn’t make it any easier, especially when she informed Lyanna that she wasn’t comfortable talking about it over the phone nor could she tell anyone that something needed to be discussed. Lyanna was less than thrilled if her tone was anything to go by and Arya hoped she was able to keep suspicion at bay. 

Gendry’s large hand on her back pulls her from her thoughts and she fights back the fire that heats her blood. They have to get going, there’s no more time to fool around. But even as she thinks it, she struggles to keep it in mind. She turns over and catches his eye, seeing the same burning passion that’s seemed inescapable in the last few weeks. Were she of a clearer mind, she may have noticed that this desire seemed to coincide with the nightmares, but that’s a thought that eludes her as dark clouds roll over her senses in the same way she rolls over on top of him. 

xXx

Winterfell is everything Gendry imagined and more. The ancient manor stands tall and resolute in the chilly Northern Woods. Evergreens and pine rise into the sky like skyscrapers, nearly blotting out the sun in the denser areas. Between thick trunks he can see little animals scurrying around and were he not convinced it was all in his mind, he would have sworn he saw direwolves. He’d heard enough about Arya’s family to know that at one point, before they went extinct, Direwolves were domesticated by the Starks, but he knows better than to think they still exist now. 

Arya and Gendry join Jon, Ygritte, Margaery and Sansa in unloading their rental cars, while the kids run excitedly for Ned who steps out of the house to greet them. It’s a mess of greetings as they all shuffle into the house with full arms and screaming children at their feet, but they manage it, Arya pulling Gendry up a side stairway off the kitchen. Through subtle, old hardwood covered hallways, she leads him to her childhood bedroom, only slightly different since she lived there before college. 

“It's exactly as I imagined.” he tells her as he sets his bag at the end of the bed with her suitcase. He turns, watching her plop down on the full size bed. 

“Is that right?” Arya questions. “You pictured my room full of old sports pennants and hockey equipment?” 

“I imagined football, actually, but hockey fits the Northern aesthetic better.” he tells her. She laughs, jabbing him in the side with her elbow. He chuckles, grabbing hold of it and pulling her into his side, throwing his other arm over her shoulders. 

“So what do you think so far?”

“It’s beautiful. Nice place to grow up if it weren’t for the cold.” he laughs as she rolls her eyes at him. 

“Better stick close to me then.” 

Gendry smirks. “Don’t have to tell me twice.” he says as he leans down. 

“I’ll bet.” she answers as she closes the distance. The kiss is long and slow, nothing like the frantic intensity of that morning, which despite its memorability, seems to have slipped from their minds altogether.

Eventually Gendry pulls away, letting them both catch their breath. “So, how many boys have you had up here?” 

“Other than Lommy, you’re the first.” Arya replies, leaning up to peck him on the lips again. 

“Lucky me.” he grins, using his weight to tip them over. They’re motions are slow and languid, both merely enjoying each other’s company. Gendry just gets his hand up her shirt when a knock on the door startles them. 

“Stop making out with your boyfriend, lunch is ready!” Rickon’s voice echoes through the hall outside and through the door. 

Arya rolls her eyes as Gendry huffs. “Remind me again why he’s my favorite brother?” 

Gendry chuckles. “Your guess is as good as mine.” he tells her, standing and pulling her to her feet. 

xXx

Arya sits on the edge of the bed, nervous energy coursing through her. She tries not to fidget, but only succeeds in stopping herself every time she starts. It’s a little ridiculous to be so nervous. It’s not as if she’s doing anything she hasn’t done before. Sneaking around the manor while everyone was asleep had been her favorite pastime growing up; sneaking sweets out of the pantry and rummaging through her father’s office. But now, it wasn’t so much about having fun. The stakes seemed higher and quite frankly, she was scared by what they might find.

“Hey.” Gendry’s hand is warm against her back and she sinks into it. The bed dips beside her as he sits and she lets the shifting tip her into his side. “You okay?” he asks. She shrugs, unsure what to say. “It’s going to be okay.” he replies after a moment. Arya’s not sure how he can think that, given everything they’ve learned in the last few weeks, but his tone left little doubt that he believed it. 

“How can you be so sure?” she voices her concerns. 

“Because I’m not going to let it be anything else.” he tells her with such insistence that she honestly believes he might have a say in the matter. She tilts her head back to look up at him.

“I love you.” she says softly and Gendry smiles back at her. 

“I love you too.” he says, leaning down to lay a kiss gently against her lips. It’s light and sweet and it makes her smile despite the dark feelings swirling around inside her. “I know everything seems pretty dark right now, but we’ll figure this out. We’ll find a way to reverse this.” 

Arya simply nods, choosing to believe him, leaning heavily into his side. His arm pulls her tighter against his side and she lets his warmth relax her. After a while, when they're sure everyone is in bed or busy in their rooms, Arya slips the old leather journal out of one of her bags and leads Gendry through the house and down into the Stark Family archives. 

The archive is lined with built-in shelves from floor to ceiling and several shelves make up a set of intricately placed faux walls. On seventy percent of the shelves sit journals of all shapes, sizes and colors. Some are bound in leather, other’s simple pattern printed cardboard. Where there aren’t journals, the shelves either sit empty or are occupied by family heirlooms or other books related to the Stark Family. 

Arya leads the way further into the room, turning a corner created by two perpendicular shelves and stops as she spots Lyanna sitting in the lounge area. The older woman spots them as they appear and stands to greet them. “Is all of this cloak and dagger stuff really necessary?” she asks. Were anyone unfamiliar with her aunt to hear the question, they might assume she was put out by all of this, but Arya has known the woman literally her entire life and she knows the worry in her voice when she hears it. 

“Unfortunately.” Gendry replies before Arya can collect her thoughts. Of all the things she thought would be difficult about this, actually telling her aunt what they learned wasn’t supposed to be one of them. In fact, it should have been the easiest. She had been able to tell Lyanna anything growing up, now, with something that she alone understood better than anyone, it should have been just as easy. 

“What’s going on?” she asks, looking between them. Arya steps forward and gestures for her to sit again, using the time it takes for all of them to get comfortable to gather herself. 

“As you already know, the faceless men took me because of my abilities. They misunderstood them at first, but eventually their leader came to realize what I really was and what that meant for them.” Arya begins. She’s not telling Lyanna anything she doesn’t already know, her family had been particularly bothered by the revelation that she had been taken by a cult for her ability to see ghosts, but as of yet, no one had actually said anything about it. At least not to her face. Lyanna looks as unnerved with the reminder as she did the night Arya recounted what she had learned in captivity. 

“Right, they wanted you to help them find corrupted people.” Lyanna replies. 

Arya nods. “There were a few things I neglected to tell the police though.” 

“Like what?” 

Arya takes a moment to collect herself. She hasn’t recounted her nightmares to anyone but Gendry and only once. She feels his hand settle on her knee and the weight and the warmth grounds her. Drawing strength from Gendry’s presence, she tells her story to Lyanna, even mentioning the details from her nightmares to drive home the idea that the Corrupted King is taking serious effort here. When she finishes she feels lighter and for a moment, even as Lyanna reels from what she’s heard, she remembers what it was like to tell her favorite aunt everything like she did when she was a little girl, long before she fully understood everything she was capable of.

“I’m not entirely sure what to say to that.” Lyanna finally speaks, her voice steady but weak. She’s shaken to be sure, but Lyanna Stark has always been a fighter.  _ “More wolf than girl” _ her father used to say, just like Arya. 

“There’s more.” Gendry speaks up. Arya looks to him, again drawing strength from the steady blue of his ocean colored eyes. Her heart sinks, a new revelation suddenly striking her. His… Baratheon Blue eyes. How had she missed that?

In the next second she pushes it away quickly. Now isn’t the time to dwell on the details she missed for so long. And yet she knows if she does, it’ll be an easy out of this uncomfortable conversation. But she won’t, because that’s an uncomfortable conversation for another time. For a moment she thinks about how at one time she would have been able to avoid all of this, held up in her unfinished house with no one to bother her or make her feel things. But then she thinks about Gendry and everything he’s made her feel since they’ve fallen into orbit around each other and she pushes all of it aside, knowing full well she’ll have that uncomfortable conversation and while she won’t love it she won’t regret it either. 

But again, that’s for another time.

Arya takes a deep breath and begins the tale of the Tudor Rose. Lyanna is enraptured by the story, eyes focused solely on Arya as she speaks. She reacts about as well as Arya assumed she would, which is not the best, but she puts on a brave face, visibly stealing herself against the onslaught of guilt that wells up. 

“It never occurred to me that you were influenced by the Corrupted King.” Lyanna tells her. 

“We can’t focus on that right now.” Arya says. She doesn’t want to hear about how guilty her aunt feels, it will only make her feel that much worse. “It’s time to stop hiding. I need to find a way to reverse the ritual before this asshole makes a move I can’t defend myself against.” 

Lyanna nods and stands from her seat. “Let’s get started then.” 

xXx

Lyanna wakes slowly, a slight pain in her neck as she shifts around in the old wingback chair. There’s a journal sitting open on her knee and the lights are slightly dimmer than they were a few hours before. She opens her eyes, spotting Gendry on the small sitting sofa across from her. He’s intently reading, a stack of journals sitting on the table in front of him. On his thigh, Arya’s head is resting, the young woman fast asleep, a journal laid open on the table where she was once sitting up. 

“Jon was right about you being a workaholic.” Lyanna speaks softly, mindful of Arya. She’d gotten the impression that neither she nor Gendry have gotten much sleep in the last few weeks, maybe longer. 

A little startled, Gendry looks up from the journal. After a moment his face flushes lightly and he chuckles half heartedly before he grows serious again. “I just… there’s so little I can do for her. I just want to find something that can help her.” 

When Lyanna met Gendry for the first time, she knew exactly who he was. Or rather, who his father was. It was hard not to recognize the face she had grown up with. The face she had thought she loved at one time. She had resisted the urge to hate him at first, the logical part of her brain reminding her that she didn’t know him and judging him for his father’s choices was unfair. Eventually logic reminded her that chances were he didn’t even know who Robert was to him, otherwise the world would have heard all about an illegitimate heir and Robert would have lost everything. 

She had been right, he didn’t know, and eventually she had come to realize that he really wasn’t anything like Robert. Seeing him with Arya drove that point home better than anything. From the way he looked at her like she had hung the moon, to his persistent drive to protect her and now, now his obsession with finding a way to help her. It was obvious, he loved her, he loved more than he could probably fully articulate. He loved her and finding a way to reverse the ritual was his best chance at ensuring that he could protect her against something he couldn’t even see. 

“It’s pretty late, maybe you should get her to bed.” Lyanna speaks up, closing the journal on her knee and setting it aside. Gendry looks up again, internally debating with himself whether or not to leave. Eventually he agrees, closing the book in his hands and setting it on top of the pile on the table. He carefully slides his leg out from under Arya’s head and then stands, turning to scoop her up. Arya shifts in his arms, cuddling closer to him and he waits for her to settle before turning and heading for the door. 

Lyanna moves around the table, opening the door for him only to be caught in the way. She slips passed as seamlessly as she can, only brushing against his arm as she does. It’s enough though, to feel the hollow coldness, to be overwhelmed, even for just a second by the darkness surrounding him. She freezes, her nerves firing off rapidly as her body struggles to put a name to what it feels. 

“Are you alright?” Gendry’s voice cuts through the turmoil and she looks up at him startled. 

“What?” she questions. 

“I said are you alright?” he looks worried now and it’s a struggle all on it’s own to change her expression into some believable amalgamation of normal. 

“Yes, fine.” she finally replies. Gendry looks like he doesn’t quite believe her, but before he can call her out on it, Arya shifts again, drawing his attention to her and blessedly, away from Lyanna. He turns and walks away, leaving Lyanna to watch him disappear down the long dark hallway. 


	2. Family Way

Winterfell

Chapter 2: Family Way

xXx

For the second night in a row, Gendry doesn’t have the nightmare, but he does wake feeling boneless and odd. As he becomes more aware of the waking world, the oddity becomes known as an intense pleasure coursing through him. The fog of sleep slowly begins to lift and on instinct he reaches out for the warm body that should be beside him. She’s not however, and with great effort he turns his head and opens his eyes, blinking away the blur to find the rumpled dent where he laid her the night before. 

A shock of pleasure shoots through him suddenly and he moans, eyes closing and head digging back into his pillow. He hears Arya’s replying moan and opens his eyes again, looking down to find the shape of her under the blankets. “Fuck.” he mutters to himself, reaching out and flipping the covers back revealing a messy head of dark brown hair. He reaches for her, brushing it back gently. In response a pair of steely grey eyes look up at him, amusement in their shining silver depths. He watches her cheeks hollow out and he loses himself in the pleasure, his head falling back as the pleasure ripples through him. “Fuck Arry.” he curses. She hums, pleased and the vibrations around him are just enough to tip him over the edge. His hips thrust up slightly as he spends his load into her mouth. 

Arya sucks a bit more when she realizes he’s still semi hard, but eventually she pulls free with a wet pop. She grins up at him when he looks back down at her, his breath finally evening out again. “Happy birthday.” she says, crossing her arms over his abdomen and laying her chin on them. 

Gendry smirks. “Thank you.” 

“Anything else you’d like for your birthday?” she asks a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. 

“I can think of a thing or two.” he says, reaching out for her. He pulls her up his body until she’s straddling his waist, moving her up and down his length until he’s fully hard again. He then lifts her up, positioning himself between her legs and pulling her down on him. He won’t let her move quickly though, watching every change in her expression as she sinks onto him. “Gods your beautiful.” he mutters, running his hands up her sides. She’s wearing one of his button up flannels, far too big on her but fitting nonetheless. He pops the buttons open but stops her from taking it off. 

“Now what?” she asks, staring down at him as he looks her over. 

“Now,” he speaks up. “Move very slowly.” he smirks again, releasing her hips where he had held her still and folding them back behind his head. 

Arya does as she’s told, raising and lowering herself so slowly he wonders if she might tire out before they get too far. He watches her movements and studies her face. He knows she’s close when she moves to touch herself, but lightening quick, he reaches out, taking her hand before she can. She whines. 

“Gendry.” she sounds breathless and it’s by far one of the most beautiful sounds he’s ever heard. This pace, this movement, it doesn’t do much for him, but he knows what it does for Arya and there’s nothing quite like watching her come apart on his cock. Knowing that she’ll have to speed up or touch herself to make it over the edge she’s craving, he knows he can prolong this for quite awhile. And he intends to do just that.

“What’s wrong, Arry, not enough?” he asks smugly. He loves winding her up and watching her go off and can’t think of anything he wants to do more on his birthday. She whines again, still keeping the steady pace. “Do you need more love?” she tries to pull her wrist from his grip, but he holds on, not hard enough to hurt her but enough to let her know he’s not going to make it that easy. 

“Gendry.” she whines. He chuckles, watching her squirm as she tries to find relief. “Please.” 

“Please what?”

“Please… I want… I want to cum.” 

Gendry’s smirk widens as he releases her wrist, pupils blown wide as she doesn’t hesitate to find the nub between her folds, rubbing in tight little circles until he feels her walls flutter around him. 

“Oh gods yes.” He mutters watching in awe as she comes undone above him. As she begins to relax, she collapses boneless against his chest, her breaths short and sharp. He chuckles, running a hand through her hair and down her back. She shivers at his touch. 

Gendry let’s her catch her breath, whispering to her what a good show she puts on and how great she feels around him, before rolling them over. She’s still relatively boneless beneath him, looking tired and spent, her beautiful brown hair a messy halo around her head. She’s so beautiful that Gendry feels as though he could stare at her forever. The flush on her cheeks darkens and he realizes he said that last part out loud. 

“You're not so bad yourself.” she replies, trying to take the attention off of herself. 

He chuckles. “Not bad for an old man, eh?” 

Arya laughs. “You're not that old.” she tells him, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck. He follows her lead, leaning down to kiss her soundly. 

“I’m forty-two now, not exactly a spring chicken.” he replies when they pull apart. 

She rolls her eyes. “That’s not old, love.” she insists. 

Gendry grins. “Whatever you say.” he leans in again, this time making sure to cut off any desire to hold a conversation with a sudden thrust of his hips. She moans, legs tightening around his waist. His pace begins steadily, picking up thrust by thrust until he’s pounding into her with the same wild abandon they’re both used to. Her gasps and groans spur him on, mixing with his grunts and moans. 

Oh gods yes.” Arya whimpers as he hits that spot deep inside of her over and over again until she’s forced to bite down on his shoulder to keep from screaming out. Gendry groans at the sharp sensation mixed with pleasure as they both tip over the edge one after the other. 

He lays on top of her as they calm, Arya’s hands combing gently through his hair. He hums, satisfied as he eventually sits up, looking down at her. 

“Best birthday ever.” he tells her. 

Arya laughs. “You’re such a dork.” 

xXx

"There should be to-go mugs in the cabinet over the coffee maker.” Arya calls out from her place in front of the bathroom mirror. 

“Alright,” Gendry replies, leaning over her shoulder and planting a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll get the coffee ready and meet you downstairs.” 

“Kay.” Arya replies with a smile as he turns and walks out. The house is quiet as he makes his way through the halls, eyes trailing the family photographs on the walls. He’d teased Arya after dinner the night before about some of them. She didn’t have many of herself in her home in King’s Landing, so it hadn’t really occurred to him that he would see that many here. She had told him various stories about her childhood, up to and including the time she cut all her hair off to get back at her mom after an argument. Seeing it all on the walls was like seeing through windows into her life. He’d poked and prodded at her about her choppy hair and her baggy clothing. All in good fun and all pay back for the way she teased him for all the photos of him in his footie jerseys. 

His favorites were the ones of her as a little girl, all chubby cheeked and smiling shyly at the camera. And the ones of her in high school, all skinned knees from her various sports and big grins. It certainly had him rethinking his lack of interest in having children. He knew Arya had always wanted a big family, but had had to give up that dream when she ran out of treatment options for her still undiagnosed issues, and he knew, despite the fact that she wouldn’t say as much, how devastated she was by that. Gendry had never wanted kids. He was focused on his career and he couldn’t really picture himself as a father, but with Arya, he thinks he could have changed his mind if she hadn’t been forced to take such drastic measures or he had been younger when they first met. 

Gendry steps into the kitchen to find Catelyn at the counter making a cup of tea. 

“Good morning.” he greets, drawing her attention. She smiles at him

“Good morning, and happy birthday.” Catelyn replies.

He thanks her, moving to the coffee pot and starting it up. He finds the cups right where Arya said they would be and sets them out. 

“So, what are your plans for today?” Catelyn asks. 

“Arya’s taking me out to show me all her old haunts around the grounds.” Gendry replies, turning to face her. 

Catelyn laughs. “I hope you're ready to get dirty then.” she tells him. “There wasn’t a day she went out that she didn’t come home absolutely filthy. Used to drive me insane. She had such a talent for finding dirt and mud.” 

Gendry chuckles. 

Catelyn looks down at her mug, stirring the steeper in the water. The smile faded ever so slightly and almost absently she says; “I used to imagine Arya having a little girl of her own just like her.” She looks up again still smiling. “I always figured she’d either encourage her to keep getting dirty, or finally see what she put me through.” she chuckles. 

Gendry smiles at the thought, feeling an unexpected sadness at the thought. He doesn’t know if it’s for himself or for Arya. Maybe for both of them; for Arya not being able to have the children she wanted or for himself for growing up in a situation that soured the idea of a family of his own to him. 

“What about you? Do you want kids?” she asks. 

Gendry shakes his head. “No, I like kids well enough, but I’ve never seen myself as a father.” he sighs. “Maybe if things had been different for Arya and we met years ago, I may have changed my mind, but I think things are pretty good for us the way they are.” 

Catelyn looks sad, looking away from a moment before looking back at him. “I spent years struggling with Arya’s decision, but in the end I can’t blame her. We tried everything to help her. Treatments and pills, hormone therapies, everything. She had to give up hockey in her senior year because she couldn’t focus on it, school and her medical problems all at once. I mean on top of everything else, seeing her go through all that physical pain… well, I can’t say I don’t understand her desperation for relief.” 

Before Gendry can reply, Arya walks in, smiling at her mother and kissing her on the cheek as she passes her. She stops beside Gendry where she fills the two cups with coffee. 

“What are we talking about?” she asks, fixing her cup of coffee. Catelyn hesitates to answer, but Gendry knows just how to respond. 

“About what a pain in the ass you were as a child.” he tells her. Arya turns, grinning proudly much to Catelyn’s amusement. 

xXx

They start at the lake, crystal clear and ice cold even as the temperature rises day by day. Long Lake is not the most creative name for a lake, but it’s apt. Only a small portion of the lake sat on the Stark property, small enough that he could see the orange buoys in the distance marking the property line. 

“We used to spend every day in the summer here.” Arya tells him, jumping from boulder to boulder along the edge of the beach. He smiles as he watches her, the childlike glee on her face as she reminisces. 

“Seems like a great place to spend the day.” he replies. She looks at him over her shoulder, grinning. 

“It really is.” she jumps to the next small boulder beside him, the height just perfect enough to make them even and leans over to kiss him. When she pulls away, she leaps down into his arms and he catches her easily, spinning her around and setting her on her feet. 

They walk hand in hand down the beach and out into the woods that surround the lake, following the dirt path that weaves between the trees. It's beautiful here, the towering evergreens all around them. It’s a far cry from the hustle and bustle of King’s Landing, with the layer of smog he grew up with and the constant comings and goings of everyone around him. There was peace here, like in Storm’s End and he could easily see why Arya loved it so much. 

They walk for about ten minutes before coming to an old structure nestled between two trees. The small playhouse fits perfectly among the trees and while it’s old, it’s well taken care of. 

“We had a treehouse growing up.” Arya tells him as they approach, gesturing to the treetops. He looks up to find the supports of a structure still up there. “It was Bran’s favorite place because he loved to climb. When he had his accident he couldn’t climb anymore, so we built this for him.” she explains. “Looks like dad has been keeping it in good shape for the grandkids.” she continues, leading him to the door. The closer they get the more obvious it is that he’s not going to fit through the door without nearly bending in half. 

Nevertheless, Arya opens the door and steps inside, turning to watch him contort his way through the front door. She laughs, stepping back against the far wall to make room for him. He glares at her lightly but she merely grins back at him. The little club is sparsely decorated, a kids size table and chairs in one corner and an old shelf in the other filled with small boxes of cheap toys. The walls are white except for the hand painted stick figure drawings, some old, some new. 

“What do you think?” she asks. 

“I think it’s the perfect size for children.” he replies, having to turn his head to look at her from his hunched over position. Arya laughs, taking the single step to reach him and kissing him sweetly. 

“Come on, there’s one more place I want to show you before we head back for dinner.” 

“Is it adult sized?” he asks, just barely managing to turn around and slip back out the door. 

“Yes, don’t worry.” she replies from behind him, amusement coloring her tone. He turns to see her step out and close the door behind her. “It’s on the other side of the property though, so it’s a bit of a walk.” She takes his hand and guides him along the trail again. 

Gendry continues to take in the sights, but this time he senses something is off. It takes him a while to realize it’s Arya. She’s quiet, but not in an “enjoying the view” sort of way. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, subconsciously squeezing her hand. She squeezes back, thumb running softly along his knuckles. “I know there’s a lot going on right now, a lot to be worried about, but I want you to know I’m here for you, through every-”

“I know who your father is.” she says it so abruptly he nearly misses it all together. He’s not sure what to say when he finally processes it. 

“What?” he asks, confused. He supposes that’s not a terrible response all things considered. They don’t stop walking, they don’t look at each other either. 

“I just… last night, when I was looking at you, I saw it. I can’t believe I missed it for so long.” 

Gendry finally stops, looking down at her. “What are you saying?” 

She sighs. “I… don’t know. I just… I saw him in you last night and I can’t…” she huffs, dropping his hand to scrub both over her face. “I know you don’t care about him, or who he is, but you're a part of his family now, you should at least know, cause… I mean if I know my dad he’s already figured it out for sure.” 

“Arry… I don’t know what to say to all this.” he tells her, shaking his head. 

“I know, I’m sorry, I’ve been trying to figure out a way to tell you, but… I mean, how do I tell you something that you don’t want to know without seeming like I’m lying about it.” 

Gendry takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He retakes her hand, continuing along the path. After a while, Arya takes the lead again, diverting them off the path in a new direction back toward the house. Eventually they come to a stand of trees and she pushes through the brush, pulling him along behind her. 

“This is where I came to get away from everyone.” she says as they make it to the other side. When he gets a good look it’s obvious why. A pond, small but crystal clear sits in the clearing, a small waterfall made of broken shale rocks and fed by a creek on one side, and the creek continuing on in the other direction. The land on the far side of the pond rises up in jaggedy hills and cliffs topped with trees and shrubs. On the side they’re on, a low rocky bank of black sand dotted by flat white stones. 

Arya takes his hand and leads him over to one, taking a seat. “I don’t know if anyone knows about this place, but no one has ever bothered me here.” 

“It’s beautiful.” he tells her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her against him. They sit for a while, just enjoying the sounds of the creek and the animals in the forest around them. “I’m going to be disappointed aren’t I?” his voice is soft, turning his face into hair to lay a kiss on her crown. “I mean, more than I already am.” 

He feels her shift against him, closer, sighing. “Yes, you will.” 

When Gendry was five he asked his mother where his father was. She told him the truth. He didn’t really understand the intricacies of it, but when he got older he did. His father didn’t want him and while it hurt at first, Gendry came to realize that if his father didn’t want him, if no one wanted him, then he didn’t want them either. But Arya wanted him, and the Starks, they wanted him too. Podrick and Davos… his mother. They all wanted him, so why should he concern himself with someone who didn’t? Then again, it might be nice to know who he had to avoid. Especially if that person was as ingrained in the Stark family as Arya alluded to. 

“What’s his name?” he finally speaks. He feels her try to pull away, to look up at him, but he knows if she does, he might change his mind and he wants to stop being asked this question once and for all. 

Realizing what he’s doing she settles down, leaning against him again. “Robert Baratheon.” 

Whatever Gendry expected to feel, it wasn’t… nothing, but that’s exactly what he did feel. He sighs, turning his head and kissing her again. 

“This place is amazing.” he says and he hears her hum in agreement. 

xXx

The house is a bustle of activity when they return. Kids running around the living room while most of the adults watch on. Catelyn and Jeyne are in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on dinner when they step through the side door. 

“There you are, just in time.” Jeyne greets them. 

“And not a spec of mud, I’m impressed.” Catelyn adds. Arya looks confused, but Gendry chuckles. 

“Need any help?” he asks. 

“We’re almost done here, but you can set the table.” Catelyn replies gesturing to a stack of plates and a bundle of silverware on the adjacent counter. They gather them up and walk them into the dinning room, setting the table together in silence. When they’re finished they make themselves comfortable in the living room, sitting on one of the open couches side by side. 

As they settle in, Arya is acutely aware that Lyanna had watched them enter and sit, and while that isn’t strange, her expression worries Arya.

“Did something happen with Aunt Lyanna last night?” Arya asks, her voice low so only he can hear. 

“No, why?” 

“She’s been watching us.” Arya replies. “Like she’s trying to see something.” 

“She’s probably still upset about everything.” Gendry suggests. 

“Yeah, probably.” she replies, unconvinced. 

“Why don’t you just ask her if you think it’s something else?” he suggests. 

“Yeah, I will.” she agrees. She sighs, leaning into Gendry’s side as she sinks into the sofa. Gendry wraps his arm around her shoulder, leaning back as well. 


	3. On The Outside Looking In

Winterfell

Chapter 3: On the Outside Looking In

xXx

When Lyanna wakes the next morning, Rhaegar is sitting against the headboard on his side of the bed, his laptop open, the screen illuminating his face in the dark created by the drawn curtains. She yawns, stretches and turns on her side to face him. He doesn’t look away from his computer, but it’s clear he notices her, smiling softly as he says;

“Good morning.” 

“Morning.” she replies. 

“You got in pretty late last night.” he continues..

“Mmm, I fell asleep down in the archive.” 

“What did they want to talk about?” 

“The corrupted king is coming after Arya and she’s trying to find a way to reverse the ritual.” 

Rhaegar’s fingers skip over the keys, stuttering to a halt. He takes a second to collect his thoughts before closing his laptop and setting it aside. He then lays down facing her. 

“Is she alright?” he asks. 

“She’s scared.” Lyanna replies. “For herself and Gendry.” 

Rhaegar sighs. “That’s understandable.” he reaches out, lacing their fingers together between them. 

“I know we’ll figure it out, but in the meantime, there’s something after her, something that I don’t think she knows is there.” 

He looks concerned. “What do you mean?” 

“Last night, Gendry was leaving and I… brushed against his arm.” she pauses to collect her thoughts, staring down at their joined hands. “I sensed something, something in him or around him.” 

“What kind of something?”

“Something dark, an influence.” she sighs. “I don’t know for sure, it happened so fast.” 

“What do you think it could be?” 

“It could be anything.” she replies. “I need to know more before I can say for sure. I need to talk to Arya alone.” 

“Good luck getting her away from Gendry.” Rhaegar teases, though Lyanna can hear that tone in his voice, the one that means he’s only half joking. “What is it with Stark women and Baratheon men?”

“There it is.” she mutters, letting his hand go and shifting around to get comfortable.

“Oh come on, I’m just joking, love.” Rhaegar defends.

“No, you’re not.” she replies somewhat annoyed. They’ve had this conversation more than a few times in their forty-three years of marriage and at no time has it ever ended with them agreeing about any of it. 

Rhaegar sighs. “I’m sorry, you’re right, that was uncalled for, I just… I know you warned me, but actually seeing him…”

“I know,” Lyanna agrees. “I had a moment myself when I first saw him. It took a lot of self control not to react badly.”

“I can imagine. He doesn’t seem much like Robert though.”

“He’s  _ nothing  _ like Robert.” Lyanna replies adamantly. “He loves her. Not as property or a passing fascination. You should have seen him when she was missing. He was a mess and when he got her back… he never left her side, they clung to each other.” 

“You can see it in the way they interact.” Rhaegar replies. “They trust each other.” 

Lyanna hums in agreement. “If there’s something inside of him, something manipulating him, then I need to figure it out, I need to stop it, for both of their sakes.” 

“Just be careful, love. And if you need help you know you can ask. There isn’t much magic left in the Targaryen line, but what is left is yours.” 

“Thank you.” Lyanna smiles, leaning over to kiss him. He smiles. 

xXx

“Has anyone seen Arya?” Lyanna asks as she steps into the kitchen. Ned looks up from his newspaper, and replies;

“She took Gendry out to see the grounds.” She must not hide her disappointment well because in the next moment Ned continues. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” she replies quickly. “I just needed to talk to her about something.” 

Before he can answer, Catelyn pops her head into the kitchen. “Ned, Robert called again. If you're not going to take his calls, just block his number already.” she doesn’t wait for his answer, ducking back out as soon as she’s finished. 

Lyanna turns to look at him suspiciously. “Why are you avoiding Robert?” 

“I’m not avoiding him.” Ned insists, turning back to his paper. “I’m finally doing what everyone has told me I should do for years now. I’m cutting him out of our lives once and for all.” 

“Why?” she asks, not that she needs a reason. In fact, the news couldn’t be better. She’ll never forget the sting of finding out that Ned had started speaking with Robert again just a few years after their break up, only a few years after finding out that his best friend had spent his entire relationship cheating on his baby sister. Granted, Robert didn’t come around anymore, and from what Lyanna could tell, any time Ned spent with Robert was down in King's Landing or strictly business, which Stannis tended to do more of anyway. 

Ned sighs. “I confronted him about Gendry.”

“And, what did he say? Was he surprised?” 

“Surprised would imply he hadn’t known about the boy the whole time.” Ned explains. “Because of the bylaws in the company he can’t have any scandals or he’ll lose everything, so when he was contacted about Gendry after his mother died, he signed away his rights and pretended he didn’t exist.” 

Lyanna has known Robert for most of her life, has known that he’s nothing more than a user, someone who takes and never gives. After all these years one would think she would be used to hearing such deplorable things about the fat bastard. And yet as Ned speaks she feels rage building up inside her. Perhaps it’s because she’s met Gendry, perhaps it’s because she can see so clearly how much he and Arya love each other. Whatever the reason, the bite of her nails clenched into her palms pulls her from her thoughts. 

“So that’s what it takes to finally get you to kick the bastard to curb?” she asks and while her tone is tense, it doesn’t hold the bitterness she expected. 

Ned sighs again, folding up the paper and setting it aside. “No, actually, it’s much worse than that. After we talked about Gendry he admitted to having several illegitimate children out there. All of whom he’s known about and all of whom he’s left to fend for themselves.”

“Fuck.” Lyanna mutters, taking a seat on the stool beside him. “How many?” 

Ned hesitates, his jaw working. “No less than sixteen.”

“Fuck!” Lyanna exclaims. “Sixteen?” 

“Two of whom, twins, are less than a year old.” 

The rage boils beneath her skin the sound of cracking in her ears and she has to take deep calming breaths to get herself under control again. When she comes back to herself she finds Ned staring down at the sugar pot next to his coffee cup, the once smooth black surface marred with cracks. 

“You haven’t done that since you were a child.” he mutters. He pokes at the pot to make sure it won’t shatter and when satisfied, turns his attention back to her. “I’m well aware that letting him dig himself back into our lives all those years ago was a mistake, one that I regret every time I think about what you went through, but there’s nothing I can do about it now except promise to keep him out this time.” 

“I didn’t realize having him around bothered you so much. You're so diplomatic, it’s impossible to tell.” 

Ned huffs. “He’s a cancer. I’ve known it since we were children, but I allowed myself to believe our bond as friends was stronger than any damage he could do. We could weather it. I could weather it.” he shakes his head. “Never again.” 

They sit for a moment in the silence that follows until Lyanna stands, wrapping her arms around his neck and planting a loud, almost comical kiss on his cheek. “Look at you all grown up. I’m so proud.” 

Ned laughs ruefully. “Ha ha, very funny  _ baby  _ sister.” 

xXx

Arya and Gendry return just before dinner, entering the living room and making themselves comfortable on the sofa on the far end of the room, out of the way. Lyanna finds herself watching them as they cuddle close together, talking low amongst themselves. For a moment she forgets her concern, lossed in the love that is clear between them. 

It’s not until Jeyne pokes her head into the living room to call everyone to dinner that she remembers her need to speak with Arya. For dinner, however, she does her best to keep her concern in check, unwilling to ruin Gendry’s birthday and subsequent first celebration as a new member of the Stark family. 

When dinner is cleaned up, and cake has been eaten and presents have been opened, everyone begins to disperse and Arya and Gendry slip out when no one is paying attention. No one but her. 

“Arya.” Lyanna calls out as she catches up with them on their way back to her room. They stop and turn to her as she stops before them. Without thinking, she reaches out, wrapping her hand around Arya’s wrist. She opens her mouth to say something but finds herself unable to speak. 

“There it is.” she thinks. “Why is it there?” the darkness she felt around Gendry the night before emanates from Arya now, or maybe it was always there and she just missed it. The more she thought about it the more she realized this was the first time she had touched Arya since she came home. 

She pulls her hand back, coming back to herself to find Gendry and Arya watching her with concern. “Are you alright?” Arya asks. “You’ve been acting a little weird tonight.” 

Lyanna hesitates. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. I’m just a bit distracted by everything we discussed.” she tells them. They seem to believe her, both of them relaxing. “Listen, I know you all are leaving early tomorrow, so I don’t think we have time for more research, but I’m going to be in King’s Landing for an estate sale next week. It shouldn’t take much time so I thought we could spend some time looking into everything.” she tells them. 

Arya seems to lighten at the suggestion, smiling. “Yeah, that would be great.” she looks back at Gendry, who also seems relieved at the prospect. 

“It’d be nice to have someone else who knows what the fuck is going on around.” he adds, earning a light chuckle from Arya. Lyanna smiles, hoping it doesn’t look as half hearted as it feels. 

“Great, I’ll see you guys next week and we’ll take care of this… once and for all.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next story up soon, entitled: Beneath The Darkness


End file.
